


Strange Love and Stranger Partners

by DottoraQN



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Backstory, Beginnings, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DottoraQN/pseuds/DottoraQN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A backstory for Ashe and Thog, starting with both of their childhoods. Inspired by The Whiskey, The Liar, and The Thief and Strange Love. T for now, eventual M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Love and Stranger Partners

“Goodnight, Aesling.”

Ashe lay on her bed next to her father’s bedroll, struggling to control her breathing like she was asleep. He always slept right in front of the door to the bedroom of the Great Tree, guarding her from any harm. She was resentful of him being so overprotective, if what the children whispered about her was true, she could crack the world in half without even breaking a sweat.

Her father’s breathing slowly came to a steady and slow pace, signifying that he was asleep. Ashe quietly got up and pulled her short sword from between the mattress and the bed frame. Having one of the only feather beds on Meathe had its perks; it was comfortable and a good hiding spot. She stepped around her father, making sure not to make a sound and slipped out the opening into the interior chamber of the Great Tree.

The staircase that stopped at her bedroom wound down along the edge of the Tree, leading her ever downward towards the opening that lead to the secluded hot springs. Ashe always went to the hot springs to practice swordplay, as the baths had a door that could be shut and if the door was shut no one would bother to come inside. Seeing the Guardian in a compromising position was death to the inhabitants of the island, so most of them didn’t look at all, regardless of what her position was.

She was good with a sword, but not excellent, not to what she imagined her full potential to be. She couldn’t hit anything with the sword, lest she be found out by noise or the deep scratch marks from where she had hit trees or rocks. She simply forced herself through every form she had seen the guards practice over and over and over, until they became pure muscle memory, but she was stagnant. She needed to hit something with her sword, have an opponent that wouldn’t hold back like the guards would if it weren’t forbidden for both women _and_ Guardians to learn melee fighting.

The trees in the grove were pressed so closely together that they didn’t let any light in from the sides, forming a nigh impenetrable wall that kept out prying eyes and violent attackers. The trees had never been cut, stretching up into the sky and silhouetting the moon perfectly in their branches. On days when the moon was full, the springs would bubble more fiercely than ever, almost as if they were were being called into the sky. On those nights Ashe was taken by procession to the hot springs and placed in the center, floating all night while twenty armed men guarded the door.

These were the times that she felt closest to whatever was caged inside of her. She could almost communicate with it on some of these nights, the being stopping its clawing at the walls of its prison and laying there within her, peacefully staring at the moon with her, wondering what was in store for both of them.

Ashe practiced swordplay in the secluded grove for about an hour, before taking a quick plunge in one of the baths to wash the sweat off of her body. Her fingers traced the bindings snaking around her chest, wincing as they seemed to contract and force the breath of her lungs. She forced herself to pull her hands away from her rib cage and grab her tunic, slipping back upstairs to where her father slept peacefully and eventually drifting to sleep.


End file.
